


Out of Place

by Paige242



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paige242/pseuds/Paige242
Summary: After Mareth senses that her father is still alive, she and Wil set off to save him. But neither are prepared for where- or when- they end up.





	1. Prologue

_A/N After the time travel episode in season 2, I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if Wil and Mareth ended up in another era. Our era. This silly little story was born :)_

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_Prologue- Paranor_

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“He’s my father, Wil. If there is even the slightest chance that he is alive, we have to do this.”

The young man nodded slowly as his girlfriend spoke.

“You’re right.” He agreed, glancing wearily towards the stone pillar that they had used once before. “I know that we have to try. I just…are we ready? Right now? We came here in such a hurry and we don’t have any supplies. We haven’t slept in two days. Who knows where we’ll end up and…”

He trailed off as he felt Mareth grasp his hand in hers. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, and he knew that any argument for a delay was going to be futile. She was as stubborn and strong willed as the man they hoped to save, and he loved her too much to let her down. Even for a moment.

“Wil, please.”

“Yes. Of course.” He conceded quickly, offering her a small smile before pulling her in for a tense embrace. “We don’t know where- or when- we’ll end up. There is probably nothing we could do anyway. We just have to go for it.”

He could feel her smile against his chest and she looked up at him again.

“Exactly.” Mareth agreed, a flash of nervous anticipation in her eyes. “I have such a strong feeling about this. I know he’s out there somewhere. And I know this is how we’re going to find him.”

Wil nodded once more. He knew by now to trust her instincts. She was a powerful druid, after all, and she had been right about his own fate after he had plunged into the Silver River. Mareth had sensed that he was still alive, even when everyone else was sure that hope was lost, and she had led the mission to save him from the shadow plane.

It was strange to think that almost two years had passed since then—their lives were so different now and running through the four lands to conquer the Warlock Lord seemed like a distant dream. There was much that Wil had tried to repress about that terrible time. The loss of his village, his torture at the hands of the Crimson, the death of his uncle…and of course, Allanon. But he was also grateful for the good. Despite all the horrible things they had gone through, they had found each other. And he would always be thankful for that. 

Although the threat had been defeated and he had been saved, things hadn’t exactly slowed down since then. Which was probably another reason why he had not often paused to reflect.   

King Ander’s death had left a void in the elven kingdom and he had accompanied a reluctant Mareth to Arborlon to take her place as the next in line. She was the last living Elessedil and they had assumed that she was the only choice for the throne. But they had arrived to find the elven council in the midst of a heated debate—according to their laws, there was a second claimant as well.

Him.

The Shannara.

And, after much internal and external turmoil, they had decided to take on the duty together. As co-regents. It was not a role either of them had ever wanted or expected, and the first year had been challenging (to say the least). But they had begun to ease into things as of late and, while it often felt surreal, Wil had largely accepted his fate. The shy boy from Shady Vale had become king of the elves. It was bizarre but, somehow, it was true.

While he now had every material comfort he could imagine, one of the unfortunate elements of their new positions was the lack of freedom they were allotted. Within the walls of the palace they could do as they pleased, but they were technically supposed to be accompanied by the royal guards on every outing. That had often proved to be a nuisance, and they had already perfected the art of sneaking away for a small dose of normalcy.

This was the furthest and longest they had gone. And Wil was pretty sure that their absence would have been noticed by now—but this had been too important to pause for caution. Mareth had awoken in the middle of the night with a vision of Allanon. Alive and well. And she had been instantly convinced that he was still out there somewhere.

Even though they had both seen his defeat by the Warlock Lord, they had never completely given up hope. His body had simply disappeared, and there was no telling what tricks a druid could have up their sleeve. Despite several tries, however, Mareth had not been able to sense any trace of him.

Until that night…

She had sworn it was him. Reaching out. And she had seen glimpses that had led her to believe he was not only trapped in another place, but in another time.

That was why they were here now.

In the ancient caves of Paranor.

There were no guarantees, but if she was right, then their best chance of getting to him was probably the stone portal. They had used the pedestal once before—to visit his own father in the past—and if Allanon had been hurled through space and time, then maybe this would lead them there.

He had seen such hope in her eyes when they had devised their plan, and Wil prayed that their hunch was right.

“Well, what are we waiting for then?” Mareth asked, snapping Wil away from his thoughts. “Let’s do this.”

Silently, he nodded, and with one last lingering glance they made their way to their stations. This magic required both the druid and the Shannara and he was glad that he could be there to support her, no matter how wary he was of this quest. No matter what happened, at least they would do it together. As always.

“Okay. Ready?” The young man asked, drawing a shaky breath.

“Ready.” She replied.

With that, they both reached forward.

And the world went black.

 

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	2. An Old New World

Wil groaned as his vision slowly came back into focus. He was lying flat on his back on what seemed to be a hard, stony surface, and it took him several moments to adjust to the sudden brightness.

He could tell that they were now outside and as he painfully pushed himself up into a sitting position he began to survey their surroundings.

There was no doubt that he had never been to this place before. There were brick walls on three sides, taller than any walls he had ever seen before. Large metal boxes with an unpleasant smell emanating off of them were lined up in one of the corners and he watched as a small rodent scurried away from one of them. Odd as it all was, it was what lay beyond the walled area that was truly perplexing.

Thankfully, he and Mareth seemed to be safely hidden about ten metres from the opening, but from his vantage point he could see a steady stream of people in unusual clothing rushing past. He watched them curiously for a second before flinching in surprised as he saw a large metal box zoom past. He had seen a metal box like that before—their shells littered the remnants of old human settlements he had seen. But he had never seen one _move._ It was so much faster than he ever could have imagined.

“Was that…a car?” Mareth asked, her eyes wide as she too looked out beyond the building which surrounded them.

Yes, he thought, that’s what they were called. Wil suddenly wished that he had paid more attention to his ancient human history lessons in school.

“Er, I think so.” He whispered, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

Another car rushed past, and he found himself flinching once more. It was hard to believe that anyone would want to rise around in something that seemed so dangerous.

“Okay.” Mareth said as she shakily got to her feet.  “If those are cars then we must be in the past. The _very_ distant past. Before the great wars destroyed human civilization.”

Even though his mind had already reached the same conclusion, Wil felt a jolt of panic run though him as she stated this fact. The stone pillar had brought them to the past before—but that time, it had only been a few decades and they had met the teenage versions of his mother and father. That had been strange, of course, but it had not been so different from their own time.

Now, however, things seemed so much more extreme. If they were correct, then this was thousands of years before their time. Before the humans had nearly destroyed each other with toxic weapons. Before they had lost their technology, and their sole dominance of the world. Before the evolution of trolls, and gnomes and dwarves.

And, most importantly for them, before the arrival of the elves…

“We can’t just go out there.” Wil began, a fresh wave of fear washing over him as he too forced himself to his feet and took a few steps back into the shadows. “If we’re right, then everyone on the planet is human. There are no elves, and we are going to attract unwanted attention.” He said, pointing towards his ears.

As strange as all of this was, the dread he felt was very familiar. Growing up, he had always been the odd one out. The elven freak surrounded by humans. But at least then, he had known that he wasn’t alone—it had been a comfort to know that there were elves out there somewhere. Now, his childhood insecurities were suddenly magnified—they were truly alone here. And there was no telling how people might react to two pointy eared freaks in strange clothing.

He glanced over at Mareth, whose face was set with a look of determination. Silently, she removed her long, dark hair from her trademark buns and adjusted it to cover her ears.

“Okay.” She said, after drawing a deep breath. “You wait here. I’ll get us some disguises and come back as quickly as I can.” She paused and drew another breath before letting a slight grin touch her lips. “We’re in the right place. I can feel it.”

Wil nodded and tried to muster a smile of his own. It was good to hear that her druid senses were confident that they were in the right place, but even that could not quash his nerves. With luck, they would find Alanon and get back to their own time as quickly as possible. The sooner they got back to their time, the better.

Mareth laced her hand in his before reaching up and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be quick, I promise.” 

He nodded in return and watched as she bravely set out towards the street and disappeared from view.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem too crowded and Wil backed up as far as he could against the shadowy wall in an attempt to stay hidden from view. Silently, he cursed himself for keeping his hair so shortly cropped—he had adopted this style while training at Storlock and had not gone back to his longer locks since. Until now, he had been proud of himself for making that change. It may have seemed insignificant to some, but his hair had been a shield to him during his awkward teenage years. It had kept his ears obscured from view, at least sometimes, and he had felt better able to “blend in” with his human peers. But after meeting elves and taking up residence with the gnomes, he had begun to care less about hiding. He’d liked his shorter hair, even though his ears stuck out more noticeably.

Now, however, he wished he could go back. Even in the shadows, unnoticed and alone, he felt exposed.

If only his people could see him now. He felt nothing like a king. He felt like the child who had been chased through the streets as his classmates pelted stones at him.

What had once felt distant had flooded back to the surface.

He could not stop the horrible memories from flashing though his mind.

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After what felt like eons (but was probably only ten minutes), Wil let out a blissful sigh of relief. Mareth came brusquely around the corner, her arms full of a sizable pile of fabric.

She looked nervously over her shoulder for a moment, before taking a ragged breath. “I think I got away with it.” She muttered, dropping the pile onto the ground. It did not appear that anyone was following her, and Wil eagerly crouched down to rile through what she had brought.

“It’s not ideal.” His girlfriend continued “But I came across some laundry drying in someone’s garden. I grabbed what I could and dashed back. I’m not going to lie—I got some weird looks, but no one seemed to be looking at my ears.” She paused. “We really didn’t dress properly for this time period.”

Despite the tension, Wil gave a quiet chuckle. “See, I told you we should have packed some supplies.” He let out a sigh. “I’d give anything for a hat right about now.”

Mareth grimaced. “I didn’t find a hat.” She admitted. “But here.”

She picked up a blue item of clothing and passed it towards him. “Put this over what you’re wearing. It has a hood.”

Wil quickly complied. It was some sort of sweater and the fit wasn’t too terrible. The arms were short and the torso was baggy, but at least his head was now covered. For a second he felt relieved—then he noticed Mareth’s playful smirk.

He was about to ask her what was so funny but first he looked down at his new attire.   Much to his displeasure, he saw an image of several kittens and the words _‘I Love My Cats’_ plastered across his chest.

“Great.” He muttered as his companion let a short laugh.

“I think you look dashing, your highness.” She said before quickly pulling a light shirt and a brown jacket over what she was wearing and pulling up her own hood.

“There.” Mareth continued. “We might look a bit suspicious, but it’s an improvement. Plus—” She added with excitement. “When I went out there I felt this…I don’t know, pull, I guess. It’s hard to explain, but I know he’s here. My father is alive, Wil! I know it.”

Wil returned her smile—he too was happy to hear the news, and he loved seeing such hope and excitement on her face.

And yet, as she grabbed his hand to pull him forward, he found himself unable to take a step.

Mareth turned back to face him, her excitement fading into concern.

“Will, lets go.” She prompted, looking out towards the bright street. There were still people rushing past, and Wil’s stomach churned as he thought of casually joining in.

“Wh…what’s it like out there?” He asked, unable to mask his hesitation.

His girlfriend shrugged. “I didn’t go too far, and I was kind of distracted.” She began. “It was…weird, I guess. The people were in strange clothing, and most of them were looking down at little handheld rectangles as they walked. There were cars. Huge buildings. And electric lights. And all sorts of stuff you learn about in ancient books.”

He nodded nervously as she gave him an understanding squeeze. As eager as she was to get out there, she knew about his past, and had guessed that he was worried about entering a very human territory. That had never really gone well for him.

“Look, no one seemed very interested in me.” She said. “Everyone is going about their business and they probably won’t even look at us, let alone realize that we’re not quite human.” There was a short pause. “Look on the bright side—at least we’re not half-troll or half-gnome. Then we’d be in real trouble.” 

Wil snorted. “That’s true.” He conceded. Although the elves were the only race that did not evolve from humans they, thankfully, looked the most similar.

“Okay, yeah, let’s go.” Wil said softly, his face set with determination as he pulled his hood firmly into place.

And with that, she led him out into the daylight.

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	3. Exciting Disappointments

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Mareth had been right. It was…weird.

And definitely unlike any place Wil had ever seen.  It was busy, and big and full of brick and glass. He’d seen a few large buildings in his life—he now lived in a palace, after all. He’d visited Lyria and Eretria in Leah. And in the past year he’d been on diplomatic missions to all of the other kingdoms. But one large castle surrounded by modest homes was quite a contrast to this. Everything was huge. And shiny. If Mareth hadn’t been holding his hand he probably would have bumped into several things as they made their way down the paved path.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking up.   

These buildings almost seemed to touch the sky.

“I overheard someone call this place Seattle.” Mareth muttered as they rounded a corner. “I’ve never heard of it, but I guess it’s an ancient human city.”

Wil nodded before finally directing his eyes downward.

She had been right about the people too. Most of them were dressed in rather plain black and grey outfits, and a lot of them seemed very distracted by small items they were holding in their hands. It was amazing that more of them weren’t bumping into each other or walking out onto the road, but they seemed to be able to look at their rectangles while walking at a frantic pace. Some of them were even talking into the strange items.

The distraction was a good thing, he supposed. No one seemed to give them more than a glace, and they certainly hadn’t begun to chase the two half-breeds from the future out of town.     

Wil felt his anxiety begin to wane.

“This way.” Mareth prompted as they swiftly made their way down a slightly quieter street. He knew better then to talk to her much when she was in one of her states. Wil knew that she was letting magic guide her, and he was happy to simply go along with it.

One street.

Then another, and another.

Until finally Mareth stopped in her tracks.

They were in front of a small-ish building. It seemed to be about four storeys tall and she looked up at it with unmistakable excitement in her eyes.

“Here!” She declared, taking a few quick steps forward. “I definitely feel something here! We have to go inside!”

Before he could advise caution or ask any questions, her had was on the door and she was dashing through the open threshold. Helpless, Wil simply followed her to find that they were now in some sort of entryway. There were a few doors around them, and a staircase presumably leading to the next floor.

“Wh—” Wil opened his mouth to ask what they should do next, but before a single word could escape a loud click resonated through the hallway.

A door to his right swung open and they suddenly found themselves face to face with a new figure.

Wil’s heart pounded rapidly as a surge of adrenaline rushed through his veins.

It was him.

They had done it.

They had found Allanon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 A shocked silence hung in the air.

For a moment, none of them knew what to say or how to react. Wil was elated, of course. And excited. And more than a little bit shocked.

Two years ago, he had seen this man dissolve into dust as the Warlock Lord plunged a magical blade through his body. And yet, here he was. Alive and well and, somehow, thousands of years in the past.

“Inside. Quickly.” The man said in his gruff tone as he stepped aside and ushered them forward. As soon as they entered the room he closed the door firmly behind them and locked it with a click.

They appeared to be in some version of a cottage—there were tables and chairs, and several doors that probably led to other rooms. It seemed that the druid had taken up residence here, and Wil supposed that he’d had to find his way in the world over the past few years. Still, it was odd to see his old mentor dressed in ancient clothing and standing in an ancient human dwelling.

This was not where Allanon belonged.

Now safe behind closed doors, Mareth launched herself into his arms and gave the man a tight hug. She, like her father, was not usually so forward—but it seemed fitting in the circumstances.

She was clearly overjoyed.

Allanon was alive.

Her father was alive. And she had found him, against all odds.

“But—how?” Allanon asked, steadying himself against a nearby table as his daughter drew back. “You shouldn’t be here. How did you get here?”

He was more stunned and shaken then Wil had ever seen him, be he could tell that the man was happy to see them—even if his trademark stoicism remained in place.

“We used the stone pillar in Paranor.” Mareth explained, her voice full of excitement. “I had a dream and I woke up knowing that you were still alive. And we figured that the pillar was our best shot. So we snuck out of the palace two night ago, made it to Paranor, and ended up here.”

Allanon looked puzzled for a moment (another rare sight), and Wil figured that he wanted to know more about the magic they had used. As it turned out, however, he had a different question in mind.

“Snuck out of the palace?” He asked, his dark brow furrowing. “Were you imprisoned?”

Mareth let out a small snort. “In a matter of speaking, I suppose.” She muttered before providing an actual answer. “We’re not supposed to leave without guards because we’re sort of in charge now. A lot has changed since you’ve been gone. When Ander died, well, the two candidates to replace him were me and Wil. And we agreed to take on the burden together.”

A somewhat awkward silence hung in the air as the man processed this news.

And just when Wil was beginning to think that the situation could not get more strange, Allanon launched another unexpected question.

“So, you’re married?” He asked, his expression and voice both unreadable.

Wil felt his ears turn beet red, and he was grateful that he had not yet thought to remove his hood.

“No!” Mareth replied quickly, her eyes wide. “I mean. We’re together.” She added, perhaps realizing that her negative declaration had been rather forceful. “It’s not that we don’t want…of course I want…but right now, we’re just getting the hang of things.”

He could tell that she was flustered, and he was relieved to know that her “no” had nothing to do with her lack of desire. Wil had thought about this many times before, of course. He loved her more than he had ever loved, and they both knew that they were inseparable. But they had not formalized things yet. They were still young, after all, and he had not wanted to propose too soon after they adopted their new roles. He didn’t want her to think that he was asking her just because their duties had pushed them together.

Their love meant far more to him then that.

As he felt Allanon’s eyes boring into him, however, Wil began to wish that he had already popped the question. He supposed he’d have to ask her father for permission now, and he hated to think about how uncomfortable that conversation would be.

He tried to push the thought from his mind.

“Well then.” Allanon continued. If he didn’t know better, Wil would have sworn that there was a slight smirk on his face. “Where is the pillar now?”

The blush instantly drained from Mareth’s face and, for a moment, Wil was confused.

“We landed in an alleyway.” She said softly, the worry evident in her tone. “When we went back in time an met Wil’s father, we landed in a field. With the pillar. But this time, it wasn’t with us…”

Allanon shut his eyes for a moment before letting out a long breath.

“There is no magic here.” He stated matter-of-factly. “I feared that was the case.”

Wil could not hold back any longer. Allanon looked solemn, and Mareth had begun to pace back and forth across the room. “Why? What does that mean, then?” He asked, suddenly feeling more worried then he had since their arrival.

The two druids were clearly aware of something that he was not.

“That’s the only way back.” Mareth whispered. “I knew that, but I was so excited and stunned that I didn’t even realize this time was different. It transported us here, but it didn’t come with us. I can’t believe I was so stupid! I didn’t even notice! What are we going to do!?”

Wil looked hopefully towards Allanon, but the expression on the older man’s face instantly made his heart sink.

“I’ve been here for nearly two years and I am yet to find a way, or even a lead.” He said solemnly, his eyes downcast. “This is a time before magic—I have felt a few glimmers here and there, but it is nothing like our time. My powers are useless.”

“But maybe with you _and_ Mareth here—”       

Allanon shook his head.

“So then what?” Wil pressed, his panic rising. “I mean, we can’t be stuck here! We don’t belong! This isn’t our time!”

He took a few shaky steps before steadying himself on the back of a nearby chair. As he leaned forward to take a deep breath, his hood finally slipped back, as if on cue.

As if he needed one more terrible reminder of how terribly he stood out here.

 “Maybe it’s all well and good for you.” Wil began, looking up at his old mentor again. It annoyed him that the man seemed so resigned to his fate. “You’re human. You can survive in this time. But we’re not!” he said, gesturing between himself and Mareth.

While she was currently more composed then he was, he could tell from her gaze that she understood.

She always understood.

He didn’t know what he would have done without her.

“I had to hide my entire childhood, and I was finally living a life where I didn’t have to be afraid.” He said, his anxieties getting the better of him. He felt nauseous, and he would have given anything to be back within the walls of Aborlon at that moment. Hell, he would have given anything to be back in Shady Vale surrounded by his hostile schoolmates. At least then, there was still hope. “We can’t just stay here. We can’t!”

There was a heavy pause before Allanon looked away.

“I’m sorry. I know this must be difficult to accept.” He muttered gruffly.  “There is nothing we can do. That’s that.”

Wil felt his fear and panic mix with a jolt of rage. This wasn’t the man he had once known. This man was worn and defeated.

This man had given up.

“No, you don’t know.” Wil replied shortly, his blue eyes flashing with determination. “And the Allanon I knew wouldn’t just resign himself to this fate. He wouldn’t stop trying! What happened to you!? You’re not even willing to discuss it? This is pathetic!”

As his final words rang through the air, Allanon’s gaze snapped towards him.

For a moment, their eyes locked. And silence enveloped the small room.

If the man had still had his powers, Wil might have balked—he could almost feel the daggers boring into him.  But he did his best not to flinch.

Being trapped in a time without magic may have been terrifying, but at least they were now on equal footing.

No one said anything for what seemed like a long while and, just as Wil was about to recoil, Allanon wordlessly brushed past him and disappeared behind a nearby door.

Finally, Wil let out a slow breath as he fell into the nearest chair.

Exhausted, worried, and full of regret.


	4. Unwanted Hope

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“Well, this is fantastic.”

Mareth made no attempt to hide her sarcasm as she sat down on the long grey couch.  

Wil nodded in sombre agreement.

What should have been a happy reunion had quickly turned sour and his mind was now racing as he tried to process what they had learned. For the most part, he still refused to believe it. Maybe Allanon had been there long enough to resign himself to this fate, but from his perspective, it still seemed impossible to comprehend.

There was no way that they could simply live out their lives here. Stuck in a time that wasn’t their own.

As interesting as it had been to see a glimpse of the distant past, he had no desire to stay in such a place. So much of what they had seen in the human city had been so foreign to him and, as he had made very clear, he hated the thought of them being the only two elven freaks on the planet.

He’d been outnumbered many times before—but never to such a crushing extent.   

It was unbearable to fathom it.

“We have to find a way, Mareth.” He said softly, looking towards his girlfriend.

She too appeared distraught, and the crestfallen look on her face motivated him further. His own thoughts aside, there was no way he could let her live this life.

She was a powerful druid.

A queen.

She was not meant to hide in the shadows.

“I know.” She agreed with a heavy sigh. “I just—I don’t even know where to start. We’ve only time traveled once before, and that time we went back using the same portal that brought us there. But we don’t have the portal now. Or magic. Or even any books to consult. Plus I’m still pretty new at this druid thing—Allanon is supposed to be the one with all the answers, and he…”

“Yeah.” Wil muttered as he trailed off. He felt bad for making the druid storm off so soon after their arrival, but he had simply said what was on his mind.

The man had seemed so different—it was rather unsettling, to say the least. The Allanon he knew was strong and determined and teeming with centuries of knowledge. The person they had just seen was like a shell of his former self. He had seemed tired, and forlorn and (as Wil had said quite bluntly), a little bit pathetic.

Perhaps that was just what happened when a druid became separated from his magic.

Maybe he had tried so hard for so long that he had simply broken.

“Wait…” Wil began again, a sudden thought springing to mind. “If there is no magic in this time, then how did you know exactly where to find your father?” He asked. “I mean, this seems like a pretty big city, and you led us down a few streets and then we were suddenly at his door. What are the odds of that? And you said you felt something, didn’t you?”

Mareth nodded, a spark of excitement in her eyes. “I did. There was definitely some sort of force pulling me. I didn’t really think much of it because I’m used to that kind of thing by now—but you’re right. That must be magic.”

For the first time since their arrival, Wil smiled.

“Exactly!” He agreed, sitting up straighter in his chair. He may have been exhausted and discouraged, but it felt good to hope.

“I wonder…” Mareth trailed off, shaking her head as if trying to banish whatever thought she’d just had. “No. I don’t think you’re going to want to hear that theory.”   

The young man snorted as he looked towards her expectantly.

“At this point, I want to hear any theory.” He stated with an encouraging nod.  

There was a brief moment of hesitation before she decided to continue.    

“Okay, fine.” She began, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe Allanon was right—maybe he wasn’t able to do or sense any magic when he was alone here. But maybe things have changed now that we’re here. Maybe we brought a little bit of magic with us.” Mareth hesitated for another second. “I think it might be you.”

Wil could tell that she was still drawing her thoughts together, which was probably why she hadn’t made much sense. But his confusion did not make his excitement wane. He knew that she was brilliant and determined—he often wondered what she saw in a simple country boy like him.

 “Me?” he prompted as she drifted off into her own thoughts.

Mareth nodded. “I’ve done some reading lately about the origins of magic in this world.” She explained. “It’s hard to know these things for certain, but most scholars agree that magic didn’t exist in this realm until the elves arrived. After the fall of man.”

Wil furrowed his brow. Although history had never been his forte, he had heard similar things before. And (as the time period they were now stuck in made clear), he knew that the elves had not come to these lands until humanity had nearly wiped itself out. Before that, they had lived in a world that was hidden to humans.

“Okay…”

“Well, when the elves arrived, so did magic.” She continued, her eyebrows raised as she continued to look towards him.

Wil shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Elves had always had magic in their world, and when they came here they brought it with them.  At first, they were the only ones who could use it. But eventually, magic took on a new life, and new qualities. Now we have druids and demons and all sorts of different magic users. But at first, it was just the elves.”

“Right. Okay.” Wil agreed. There was nothing about this that was surprising, and he still wasn’t sure how this related to their current situation. “Magic was originally just an elf thing. But we’re clearly in a pre-elf era right now.” He pointed out with a darkened glance towards the door. “We’re thousands of years in the past, and this is still a strictly human world.”

There was another hesitant pause.

“Well, it was.” Mareth agreed quietly. “But we’re here now.”

Despite the seriousness of their discussion, Wil could not suppress a sharp laugh. “Us?” He questioned, suddenly beginning to doubt the usefulness of her theory. Was she saying that they were enough to bring magic to this era? That seemed crazy. “The arrival of two halflings isn’t really the same as arrival of an entire race of people. And didn’t elves have way more magic back then? It has faded, hasn’t it? Most elves don’t possess any now.”

He tried to ignore the small roll of her eyes. Apparently, she thought he was just as off base for not seeing what she deemed obvious.

“You’re not most elves, Wil.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, because I’m half human.”  He pointed out.

Mareth shook her head. “No, because you’re the Shannara.” She drew a deep breath, determined to continue. “The Shannara ruled the elves before they came to this world, and that bloodline continued to be the most powerful that there was…is.” She corrected herself.

“I’m not that powerful.” Wil replied, shaking his head. “I need the elf-stones to do any sort of magic. You’re also half-elf and you’re way more powerful then I am. You’re the ass-kicking, illusion conjuring druid.”

She gave a small smirk at his description before she continued. “Fine.” She conceded. “But my magic is different than yours. Druid magic is general magic, usable by any race of people. What you have is _elven_ magic. The sort of original elven magic that changed this world.”

Wil snorted again. This all seemed so silly, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to have his elven qualities highlighted. It only reminded him that, if they were trapped here, he would always be an outcast.

“Fine.” He muttered. “So?”

“So…” She continued, her hand drumming excitedly on the side of the couch. “What if you coming here is the reason I can feel sparks of magic, despite what Allanon said? You appeared through a portal, just like the original elves who came here. And you possess ancient elven magic, just like they did. You’re right, it’s probably not as dramatic as a shift, but it’s something. We can’t give up hope.”

While Wil was happy to think that Allanon’s dire assessment of their magic-less prospects had been wrong, he was still not thrilled about the possible reason behind it. Sure, he’d accepted who he was much more than he had in the past—and living in the elven kingdom for the last two years had made him much more willing to embrace that side of himself. But the day had already brought so many old feelings rushing back.

He had spent so much of his life yearning to be “normal.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about possibly tainting this very “normal” world with his ancient elven magic.  

With a deep sigh, Wil turned his head. From the corner of his eye, he had noticed a small mirror on a nearby table and he paused for a moment to look at his own reflection. Although he did not feel much different from the many people he had seen on the streets that afternoon, even a quick glance at the reflective surface reminded him that he was not like them.  

For a long moment, he starred silently at the elven man before him.

No matter how he angled himself, his hopelessly pointed ears stuck out noticeably. He had sworn that they looked even larger lately, and Mareth (much to his discomfort) had informed him that an elves ears often kept growing well into a person’s third decade. Eretria still playfully called him short tips, but it had seemed a less fitting title as of late.

Wil had started to feel less human by the day.

Now—here— he felt less human then he ever had before.

 “Fine.” Wil conceded. If there was hope, then it was foolish to deny it. Once they got out of here, much of his discomfort and self-doubt would fade once more. Besides, running from his fate had never worked out well for him before. “Maybe you’re right.”

Mareth opened her mouth to reply, but before a word could escape, the sound of a third voice cut in.

“I think she is right.” Allanon’s deep tone stated, catching them both off guard. “And I think I have an idea.”  


	5. Uncomfortable Rest

“Fine, but even if you’re right, how could one person’s magic possibly be enough to get us back home?”

Darkness had begun to fall as the three sat around in Allanon’s small sitting room. Ever since Mareth had proposed her theory about Wil’s elven magic providing hope for their return, she and her father had begun a deep and heated discussion.

Wil, despite being central to all of this, had mostly been sitting on the sidelines. He may have been the Shannara (and, more unsettlingly, their only hope) but his magical knowledge could not hold a candle to theirs. They’d been mentioning and debating countless druidic texts that he had never heard of, and it was impossible not to feel out of the loop.

His basic question, however, instantly seemed to remind the two druids that he was still in the room.

There was a short pause as Allanon met him with a stony gaze.

“It probably isn’t.” He stated bluntly, never one to sugar-coat things. “It is, however, possible that your presence here might provide just enough of a crack between the worlds to let us access more.”

Wil felt his brow furrow and thankfully Mareth took that as her cue to elaborate.

“Basically, a magical world—the world that the elves first came from—always existed in parallel to this one. Historically, there was very little contact between the two until the elves decided to move into these lands. But—” She paused, briefly glancing towards her father “There is some evidence, mostly based on old folklore, that some interaction did occur before the great migration. Hopefully, your elven magic will be enough to help us facilitate that.”

The young man shifted uncomfortably, still not thrilled that his freakishness was the main matter of discussion at the moment. But, he reminded himself, at least it was the one thing that was currently providing some help.

“What sort of evidence?”

This time, Allanon replied. “I have done as much research as I can since my arrival here, and I’ve discovered that ancient humans have many stories of contact with what they deemed the faerie realm. Especially in certain locations and on certain days. Most of it is probably just myth, but it is possible that there is some truth to it.” Allanon drew a deep breath. “Admittedly, it is still a long shot, but one of the days deemed to be the most supernatural is not too far away. Human lore says that October 31st is the time when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. If that is true, then we might have hope of contacting other magical beings who can help us get back to our time.”

“Okay then.” Wil replied, trying his best to ignore the tentative nature of their current theories. “So when is October 31st? And what do I have to do? Use the elf stones to open some sort of portal or something?”

He watched as Mareth and Allanon exchanged a wary glance. “It is three weeks away.” The older man replied, his face still as stern as ever. “I am not yet sure what the best course of action will be, but we have time to plan.”

His girlfriend nodded in affirmation as she offered him a reassuring smile. He wasn’t sure if he was overly convinced by it, but Wil did his best to smile back.

Three weeks…

While that normally wouldn’t have seemed too long, the thought of spending that amount of time here was rather unpleasant. He was used to a very different life. At home, he had finally found his place. Here, he was an outsider in the most extreme sense of the word.

What could they possibly do? Hide away in this tiny room and wait for the minutes to slowly tick past?

Still, three weeks was far better then “indefinitely,” and he was happy that they had a glimmer of hope.

Slowly, the young man let out a tense breath in an attempt to relax his nerves. While his adrenaline was keeping him awake right now, there was no doubt that his body was exhausted and he could see that Mareth was in a similar boat. They had hardly slept since they had left Aborlon and this had been a draining experience so far, to say the least.  

“Perhaps we should continue this in the morning. Once you have both had some rest. I have no doubt that your journey has been long.” Allanon stated. For once, he seemed to be surprisingly perceptive. “There is a spare bed though that door if you would like to get some sleep.” He continued, looking towards his daughter before letting his gaze return to Wil.

For a moment, the man looked markedly uncomfortable.

“And Wil too, I suppose…”

Wil felt his face flush and he quickly looked down at the wooden floor. “I, er, I’ll sleep out here!” He cut in quickly, looking towards the narrow couch where Allanon currently sat. “Mareth can have the bedroom.”

Despite the overall seriousness of their situation, it was funny to suddenly find himself face with such a stereotypically uncomfortable moment. He and Mareth had not officially been together when her father had disappeared and, while they had now grown comfortable in their relationship over the past two years, he was clearly not sure what to make of it.

As odd as it would be to fall asleep without her beside him, Wil knew that it would be improper to make her father uncomfortable in his own home.  

He heard Mareth let out a quiet giggle.

“Wil, you don’t always have to be such a gentleman.” She declared, always the more brash of the two. “Of course we can share the bed. It’s fine.”

She gave Allanon a pointed look and Wil watched as the druid put up his stony mask once more.

He still wasn’t sure what he should do, despite his girlfriend’s confident reassurance.

There was a short pause.

“Make yourselves comfortable.” The older man stated as he rose from his spot on the couch and made his way towards what Wil assumed was his own bedroom. As Allanon reached the threshold he paused. “You should, however, keep in mind that these walls are rather thin.”

And with that final implication, Allanon disappeared from view.

Wil could feel his cheeks flush. Mareth, meanwhile, gave a playful roll of he eyes and moved towards him.

“I really should sleep out here.” Wil began to mutter. “He’s your dad. And he probably hates me now because—”

“Nonsense.” Mareth cut him off before entwining her hand in his and leaning onto his tired shoulder. “We’re not exactly your average father and daughter, and he knows how wonderful you are.” She paused as a slow smile spread across her face. “Who wouldn’t want their daughter to be with the handsome elven king who saved the world from evil on multiple occasions?”

This time, Wil rolled his eyes.

Perhaps she was technically right, but that wasn’t exactly how he saw himself. Especially not right now.

“Well, here I’m just a pointy-eared freak who is sleeping with his daughter in his very small apartment. That doesn’t sound nearly as good.”

Mareth gave him a playful shove before sitting upright and brushing her long dark hair behind her ears.

“If you’re a freak, then I’m a freak.” She pointed out with mock annoyance. “Be careful who you insult, elf-boy.”

“Now, enough of your broody pity-party.” The girl declared, standing up and offering him her outstretched hand. “We need to sleep. Things will feel better in the morning.”

Although he still felt reluctant, Wil let out a deep sigh and took his girlfriend’s hand. He was too tired to resist, and he knew he would sleep so much better with her in his arms.

He needed that sense of normalcy right now.

“I hope you’re right.” He muttered as she led him into the spare room.

So much was still swirling in his troubled mind, but before he knew it they had collapsed, exhausted, into the soft sheets.

Perhaps tomorrow would be a brighter day.    


	6. Leads with Dead Ends

Although he yearned for home, Wil had to admit that some things were far more enjoyable in this time.

The bed that he and Mareth had slept in had been the most comfortable he had ever had (even their bed in the royal chambers did not compare). And, when he had asked Allanon where he could wash up in the morning, he had been directed to a room with an unbelievably satisfying shower. The water flowed freely and warmly and had been far more enjoyable then any other bathing experience that he’d ever had.

In their time, water had to be fetched from a well and warmed. Since he had come to Arborlon, this had been done for him—but even the servants’ best efforts could not compare to this. All you had to do here was twist a knob!  The water simply came out of the wall as warm and for as long as you desired!

It had felt fantastic and was probably much needed after their long trek.

Wil could feel relaxation spread across his body as he stepped out of the wonderful shower. He revelled in the warm steam as he wrapped a fluffy towel around his bottom half (ancient humans seemed to have perfected these items too, he mused).

He was in no rush to walk out into the cold hallway and he leaned against the small bathroom sink as he drew a few relaxing breaths. For a moment, his worries seemed to float away—but the sight of a small item on the counter led to the first flickering of serious thoughts.  

Although it was a bit different then the ones he was used to seeing, Wil recognized Allanon’s razor sitting in the top right corner. Instantly, he found himself bringing his hand up to touch his own smooth face before looking at his reflection in the mirror.

He was twenty-eight years old and he’d never had to shave a day in his life.  

Stubble was a rarity for elves and was considered an odd mutation. Most eleven men remained naturally clean shaven and, despite his mixed heritage, Wil seemed to have inherited that particular trait.

When other boys in his village had begun to show off their facial hair, he had realized (once again) that he stood out. Even as a teenager, his face had been freakishly smooth and unmarked. He’d never had a blemish, let alone a five-o’clock shadow—and, not surprisingly, it had been yet another thing his human peers had picked on him for.

He hadn’t really given it much thought in years. But now, here, he was reminded that he was different in more ways then one. Allanon was not from this time, but at least he was human. He could do all of the regular human things that everyone else in this world was doing. He could blend in.

But Wil never would.

With a sigh, the young man ran a hand through his hair. His ears always stuck out so horribly when he was wet and he found himself quickly looking away from the unsettling sight of the smooth faced elf in front of him.

In an attempt to redirect his attention, he slipped on the clean clothes that Allanon had given him. They were simple and plain, and much better then the terrible items Mareth had stolen for them yesterday. He knew that even this would not make him appear “normal,” but he did feel slightly better as he hung up his towel and made his way out of the room.

At least he had the beginnings of a disguise.

Wil could hear the sound of voices at the end of the short hallway and he continued his trek until he emerged into the narrow kitchen. Mareth was sitting at a round wooden table as Allanon prepared something at the stove. It smelled quite enticing, and the young man felt his stomach begin to rumble.

He realized that he could not recall the last thing he had eaten.       

“Wil!” Mareth’s face lit up as she caught sight of him and she gestured towards the chair next to her. “Feel better after washing up?”

He leaned forward to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before taking a seat next to her.

“Much better.” He replied, returning her smile. She had showered just before him and seemed to be in good spirits now that they had been refreshed. Perhaps it was just the joy that came from finding her father that kept her upbeat, but Mareth seemed to be handling the situation better then he was. She appeared to be content, and happy, despite their strange predicament.

Wil silently vowed to do his best not to bring her down.

 “Well, what do you think of my ancient human outfit?” his girlfriend asked, gesturing to the light green dress she was currently wearing. Wil hadn’t noticed at first, but her new attire was definitely more in line with what they had seen people wearing during their quick walk through the city yesterday. As odd as it was to see her in something so uncharacteristic, she looked as beautiful as ever in his eyes. The green complimented her dark hair perfectly and the dress, while not too revealing, seemed to hug her in all the right places. If her father had not been standing three feet away, he would have told her how enticing she looked.   

But, in current company, he held back.

“It looks nice.” He replied with another smile. “Where did you get it?”

Before Mareth could reply, Allanon cut in. “While you were asleep I managed to get a few essentials at a local shop.” He explained as he spooned the eggs he had been cooking onto three plates and placed them in front of them on the small table.

Wil watched, perplexed, while he turned knobs on his very complex looking stove and quickly ran his pan under a stream of water that seemed to magically flow from his sink.

It wasn’t magic, he quickly reminded himself— but ancient human technology was definitely impressive. Apparently, one could cook without fire and wash without a well. It was a shame such luxuries had disappeared over the centuries.

Despite his fascinating surroundings, Wil was unable to resist the food a second longer and began to devour the eggs as Allanon joined them at the table. His hunger had grown unmanageable during the last few minutes and it was a relief to finally begin to fill his stomach. They probably should have eaten something last night, but the stress and excitement had been too much of a distraction.

Mareth appeared to be in the same boat and they both focused their attention on the much-needed meal.

Eggs had never tasted so good.

“Thanks for everything.” Wil finally replied, remembering his manners after the worst of his hunger had been quelled.

Allanon gave a small shrug. “You came here for me.” He noted, the faintest of smiles on his face as he glanced over at his daughter. “The least I can do is make this as easy as possible, and keep you safe.”

The man paused as he reached behind him and picked up a small paper bag that had been sitting on the counter.

Silently, he took out two small grey items and passed them to Wil and Mareth.

“We can find better ones later, but I figured that these would do for now.” He noted as Wil unfolded the small item.

It was a knitted hat, quite similar to the one he used to wear back in Shady Vale. Until he had met Amberle and Eretria—his first true friends—he had rarely ventured outside without it. As his uncle had often reminded him, a hatred of elves was the one thing the other races had in common, and it had always seemed safer to hide his most telling feature.

But once he had begun to find his place, and find comfort in the company of friends, he had been happy to be rid of it.

Back home, wearing such an item would be unthinkable now. He could only guess what his people would say if they saw their king cover his ears.

But, he reminded himself, he was far, far away from there. This was once again a necessity.

“That’ll work, thanks.” Wil said, trying not to let his discomfort get the best of him.  He quickly pulled the hat on and watched as Mareth did the same.

As his eye caught hers, she gave him a reassuring smile.

“Okay, so, what’s the plan for today, then?” She asked after taking the last bites of her breakfast. She looked expectantly over at her father.

As much as Wil wasn’t keen to venture outside into an unfamiliar world once more, he was more than willing to do whatever was necessary to find a way home. If Allanon had a plan, he would follow it.

“There is a large library not to far from here.” The older man began, looking at the new arrivals. “It is not ideal, but it may be worth looking for more books of human lore. Anything about all hallows eve and evidence of contact between the worlds.” He paused. “Like I said yesterday, it’s all a bit of a long shot, but at least it’s a start.”

Mareth smiled, and Wil did his best to do the same.

“Alright then.” She replied, abruptly standing up from her spot. “Ancient human library, here we come.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The walk to the library was, thankfully, less stressful then their trek to find Allanon the previous day.

This time, they had a much better disguise—and, since Allanon had been stuck here for the past two years, he was able to easily guide them through the area.

That was not to say, however, that all of Wil’s nerves had dissipated. This was still a very strange place, full of odd (and sometimes scary) things. He didn’t think he could ever get used to the large cars that constantly barreled past, and his heart had beat rapidly in his chest as they had made their way through several large crowds of humans.

No one seemed to give any of them a second glance but Wil still felt like a fish out of water. A thin woolen cap was all that shielded him from unwanted exposure and every new sight he took in seemed to remind him that they didn’t belong.

This place was just so…foreign.

Once they got off the streets and went into the library, he had calmed slightly. Books, at least, were still a fixture of their time and he had been spending a lot of time in the palace library recently. This place felt more institutional and had some odd ancient human items (what were those glowing boxes people were sitting in front of, he wondered)—but books were still books.  

Allanon had found the section they needed, and they had made themselves comfortable at a secluded table behind some tall shelves. Only a handful of humans had passed by in the hours that they had been there and it seemed like a relatively safe spot.

It was interesting, and a little fun, to look through these ancient human texts. There were certainly some amusing human misconceptions about elves to be found, and they had laughed quietly at more than one illustration. Much to his amusement, there seemed to be a general assumption that elves were three feet tall—and they were often depicted building toys for an old man in a red suit.

But, despite the moments of levity, the fact remained that they had not really found anything of use. There were stories about faerie people, books about historical myths from various cultures, and descriptions of Halloween traditions and beliefs. There was no telling fact from fiction, however, and they had done little more then confirm what Allanon already knew—October 31st might be a day when more magic was possible.

“This guy kind of looks like you.” Mareth said with a small smirk, holding up a book she had been looking at called _An Illustrated Guide to the Lord of the Rings._

Wil looked up from what he had been reading to see an image of a tall blonde elf holding a bow and arrow. He supposed that there was some resemblance. At least he wasn’t three feet tall.

“That’s from a novel. Definitely fiction.” Allanon noted after taking a brief glance.

“Definitely cute.” Mareth muttered with a wink in Wil’s direction.

He gave her a gentle kick under the table and she playfully stuck out her tongue. “Don’t worry, dear,” She whispered, leaning towards him. “There is only one hunky blonde elf for me.”

He was glad that she could not see his ears turn red.

“Good.” He muttered back in mock annoyance.

Wil tried to look back down at the book of Celtic myths and legends he had been perusing, but he found himself letting out a long sigh after a few unfocused moments.

They had been at it for a long time now, and he was starting to feel restless. And more than a bit disheartened.

Mareth looked towards him once more.

“I don’t think we’re making any progress.” Wil admitted after a short pause. He did not want to rain on their parade, but he could not suppress his doubts for much longer.

“Most of this stuff is pure fiction. Novels and children’s tales. I don’t see how it is going to help us.”

Unfortunately, Allanon did not offer the reassurance he desired.

“It probably won’t help us.” The older man said stoically. “But we have three weeks and no other leads. I would do anything to consult the druidic texts right now, but those won’t exist for thousands of years. This is all we have.”

Wil nodded sadly.

He knew that Allanon was right.

Of course doing something was better than nothing— but he needed to clear his head before he forged ahead.

“I think I’m going to go get some air.” He said, slowly standing up from his spot. “It’s warm in here, and I keep reading the same page over and over again.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t take off his hat in a public place, but perhaps cooling off outside would feel good.

“Do you want me to come?” Mareth asked, looking up at him.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, I’ll only be a minute. If you’re not ready for a break yet, you don’t have to take one on my account.”

She smiled back before giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay, then.” She replied. “See you in a few minutes.”

With that, Wil turned and walked towards the door that they had entered. The library did not seem to be on a busy street, and he hoped that a short time outside would fill him with renewed optimism.   

Unfortunately, however, that was not to be.

_Looking back, Wil wished that he had never left…_

   


	7. Unnerving Aid

Pain.

So much pain.

Everything was blurry. There were flashes of light.

_“Male, late twenties. Severe injuries.”_

He was moving fast, and it was bumpy.

It hurt.

_“He’s young. He’ll pull though. The driver has been arrested.”_

 “Mareth.” He whispered.

_“His pulse is dropping. Hang in there kid.”_

Pain.

The world around him faded away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first thing he could remember hearing was the steady sound of beeping. For a moment, that was all he was conscious of. There was nothing but that sound. As the moments passed, however, the beeping became more and more real and Wil slowly became aware of his own body.

He was somewhere soft.

Lying down.

But that didn’t make much sense, because the last thing he could remember was walking in front of the library and turning a corner. He was supposed to be outside. Standing.

But somehow, he wasn’t.

As he strained, he could almost remember a flash of bright lights. And now, he was…somewhere.

With a quiet groan, Wil forced himself to open his eyes. That simple action took a surprising amount of effort, and he was becoming increasingly aware of a dull pain that seemed to throb across his entire body. The last time he had felt this horrible, the Crimson had drained half of his blood…

He could instantly tell that he was not in a place as horrible as that dungeon, but that did little to ease his confusion. Everything around him seemed to be white, and annoyingly bright. He was indoors, and the ancient electric lights (still a novelty to him) were rather blinding. Trying to overcome his exhaustion, he turned his head slightly to the right. He could see a simple white table there, along with many strange tubes and wires that seemed to be attached to him in various ways.  

That was certainly unnerving, and he could not help but be reminded once again of his run in with the crimson.

Letting out another moan, Wil reached down towards his wrist where he could feel some of the tubes attach. He began to fumble around, hoping to free himself from the beeping contraption but, before he could, the sound of someone speaking cause him to freeze.

“Please don’t do that.” A calm male voice said from somewhere in the room.

Wil turned as quickly as he could (which was not very quickly in this state).

Much to his surprise, he saw a middle-aged man sitting in a chair to his left. He appeared to be quite calm and he was wearing a long white coat which made him blend into the sterile room.

“What—who?” Wil began to stutter. His throat was dry and it seemed that talking was nearly as difficult as moving.

What the hell had happened to him?

“Oh good, you do speak English.” The man stated before quickly scribbling something down on a clipboard he was holding. “We weren’t sure what to expect. This is all so…fascinating.”

The man paused again as he looked back up at Wil. “Like I said, don’t pull on those.” He pointed towards the tubes. “We couldn’t find you a blood donation, for obvious reasons, but we’re still able to give you fluids and medication for pain management.”

Clearly, Wil still looked confused because he continued to explain.

“You were hit by a drunk driver outside of the central library.” He stated with a sympathetic look. “It looked pretty bad on the scene, and you do have a few broken ribs and blood loss, but it could have been much, much worse.”

“I…what?” Wil stuttered again. He figured that he probably seemed quite idiotic at the moment, but he was in too much shock to really care. He had been hit by one of those massive metal cars? At least he was still alive. But that certainly explained the pain and disorientation. It must have knocked him unconscious, and this man was probably the ancient equivalent of a healer.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem malicious…but Wil’s heart began to pound as the reality of his situation began to sink in.

He was injured, and he had been taken in to some sort of human healing facility…

Suddenly more awake then he had been in the past several minute, Wil frantically reached up to his head. His hat was gone.

He was hopelessly exposed.

“I need to go, I can’t be here, I…”

He began to push himself up, but the man rushed to his side before he could.

“Your injuries are fairly severe. You’ll be here for a couple of weeks, at least. You can’t go.”

Wil’s eyes widened in fear and his stomach filled with dread as he watched the man’s eyes flicker up towards his ears.

This was his worst nightmare.

This could not be happening.

“Please calm down.” The man tried again. “My name is Doctor Roberts. But you can call me Tim if you want. I promise that I don’t want to hurt you— I’ve spent the last two days doing my best to treat you.”

If possible, Wil’s eyes grew even wider. “Two days?” He whispered, mouth opening in shock. “My friends…”

He could only imagine how frantic Mareth and Allanon would be by now. He hated to think that this stupid accident had caused them worry and stress. Things had already been bad enough.

A brush with death and exposure was not what they needed.

There was a brief pause.

“Your friends.” Dr. Roberts repeated, the fascination evident on his face. “Are there others like you?” He paused again. “And, well…I do have to ask…” There was hesitation in his voice. “What are you exactly?”

Despite his growing panic, Wil did his best to keep his expression calm.

All he wanted to do was hide.

He wanted to be anywhere but here.

“I’m nothing special.” He said, praying that his reply would be enough. “I’ve got a weird birth defect,” he said, pointing up towards his embarrassingly exposed ears. “Hopefully I can get surgery to correct it one day.”

Much to his annoyance, the doctor did not look the least bit persuaded.

“Mhm.” He replied, raising a brown eyebrow as he looked down at his clipboard once more.

“The thing is, I had to run a bunch of tests when you came in here. X-rays, MRIs, blood tests. All of the usual stuff. But you—” He paused, looking back up towards Wil. “Were very unusual.”

Wil swallowed as he fought to keep his cool. He didn’t know much about ancient human medical tests, but he had begun his training as a healer. He knew a lot about the differences between elves and the other races. Elven anatomy and treatment had been an entirely separate area of study—unlike gnomes, trolls and dwarves, they did not evolve from humans.

They were very different.

And he knew that he was different too. The Master Stor had even used him as an example during some of their lessons…

“Most of your internal organs are not in the right place.” Doctor Roberts expanded. “Your heart has an entirely abnormal structure unlike any I have ever seen and your blood did not match anything in our system. There seemed to be a few human elements to it, but our computers suggested that it was not similar enough to be considered characteristic of our species.” The man hesitated once more. “And then there are your ears…”

Wil felt himself turn red but he did his best to ignore it. He knew that everything the man was saying made sense, and he was not shocked that they were able to figure out so much using their advanced technology.

He had no idea what to do, or how he was going to get out of this.

He was caught.

Trapped.

A freak exposed for what he was.

“I told you, it’s just a weird birth defect.” Wil repeated, his voice less convincing then before. “And I need to go.”

The man showed no signs of relenting. “I told you, you’re not well enough to go. And it’s clearly not a birth defect.” He replied calmly. “I haven’t been able to come up with any answers, and I’m sorry to make you uncomfortable—but you’re clearly not human. I’ve done my best to keep your case as quiet as possible, only a handful of us have treated you. But I need to know. I won’t harm you, I promise. This is purely scientific curiosity.”

There was another long pause.

“Are you…an alien?” Dr. Roberts’ voice was suddenly much quieter then it had been before and he starred down at Wil with child-like anticipation.

Despite the levity of the situation, Wil let out a short scoff.  He had been called a lot of things in his life, but that was a first.

The doctor looked perplexed. “No?” He guessed, scribbling something down once more. “We’ve been calling you Spock—I hope that’s not offensive.” He said with a nervous laugh. “Because we didn’t know your actual name and you look like him, obviously.”

Wil furrowed his brow. He had no idea who Spock was (an alien, he supposed) but that was the least of his worries.

After a slight hesitation, Wil decided to freely offer a bit of information. Perhaps that would placate the man until he could escape.

“My name is Wil.” He said, not seeing any reason to lie about that particular fact. “And I was definitely born on earth. I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, but there is nothing special about me. I’m just a normal guy, and I want to go home.”

“Wil.” Dr. Roberts repeated with a warm smile.

As awful as this situation was, Wil had to admit that the man did not seem threatening. That did not change the fact that he had to get the hell out of there before more people saw him, but at least the man he was currently exposed to was more curious then dangerous.

“Okay then,” The doctor said, clearly ready to try again. “Maybe this sounds equally ridiculous and, again, I’m sorry if this is offensive— but you do look like an elf.”

Despite his best effort, Wil felt himself flinch at the word.

He hoped Dr. Roberts’ didn’t notice his more telling reaction and he quickly did his best to give a convincing shake of his head.

“Look, I don’t know how many times I have to say it.” Wil began again. “I’m just a regular person, and the stuff you’re talking about is all imaginary. Besides, aren’t elves supposed to be three-foot-tall toy makers?”

He hoped that some of what he had read in the library about human folklore might help to convince the doctor.

Much to his displeasure, the other man simply starred, his eyes lingering on Wil’s ears once more.   “Elves aren’t supposed to exist.” He replied slowly. “But I’m starting to think that they do. It seems too obvious and absurd to be true, which is why alien was my first guess—but you look like you walked out of the pages of a Tolkien novel, Wil. And I probably shouldn’t be too quick to dismiss what’s right in front of me.” He stopped to quickly write something on his board.  

“The look on your face when I said that word…you are an elf, aren’t you? A real, live, actual _elf_. And I bet you’re not alone…”


End file.
